The halfwitted impulsive lion's way
by drugan
Summary: AU, 3rd year. When Buckbeak's attack turns to tragedy, Draco try to understand why.


_AN : For my friend Phenixia._

**The half-witted impulsive lion's way.**

"... you great ugly brute!"

"Malfoy!"

The next seconds were a blur. He was teasing the creature, the beastly equivalent of a mudblood, when he heard Potter's yell and was shoved to the ground. The impact was painful. He guessed he had broke something. Before he could even register the pain coming from his forearm, he was showered with something sticky: blood. He turned his head toward the spray. The grisly sight that greeted him would haunt his nightmares for the rest of his days. Overwhelmed by a sudden stream of sensations and emotions - pain, guilt, horror, disgust, fear, admiration - he went into shock.

-.-.-

He was in a haze, the occasional sound or sight piercing through his consciousness: Granger's shriek, Pansy's worried face over him, Snape's frown, words of death, crying girls, Pomfrey shoving a potion in his mouth. When unconsciousness finally came, it was bliss.

-.-.-

Draco came back to the world in a bed of the hospital wing. Again. He hated the place, yet he seemed to always find his way there. Talking with Pansy, one of the gossip queens of Hogwart, had informed him that only three students spent more time in the hospital than him: Potter, Longbottom and that mad Ravenclaw girl.

"Don't move." said the velvety voice of his godfather. "Do you remember what happened?"

"Yes."

It brought the grisly picture back into the forefront of his mind. He felt nauseous. Snape took hold of him, bent him over a pan and he puked. It took him a moment to regain his composure. Even then, it was just a mask. Inside he felt as much as a little boy as he had felt in years, wanting to cry in is mother's arms.

"Did... Will... Potter?"

"We'll know in a few days."

For an instant, Snape seemed really worried... or was it a trick of the light?

"He's at St-Mungo?"

"Here. They can't move him. Now, care to tell me your version?"

It might sound like a request, but Draco knew it was an order. Severus Snape wasn't one to let a student refuse to fulfill a request, even his godson. The problem for Draco was how to answer him. In normal circumstances, he would have answered Slytherin style, in the way that provided him with the best advantages. Often, it was by using half-truths and nuances. In this particular case, good acting and lies would have allowed him to hurt Potter and his friends through Hagrid and would have increased his standing in his house.

With the sight of a gored Potter etched in his mind, a still near-death Potter, Draco couldn't bring himself to cause more grief. He said the truth, how he had disregarded Hagrid's teachings and numerous warnings, how he had let his distaste for the animal guide his approach, how his fellow student had taken the attack in his place. He expected Snape to be disappointed by both the 'puffness of his answer and the stupidity of his actions. As he talked, his gaze didn't stray from his lap. The firm, warm grip on his shoulder after he finished took him by surprise, and he turned to look at the adult. Snape nodded once. The true meaning of that nod from the enigmatic character was lost to Draco, but he felt understood. His heart warmed just a little.

"Take this potion." said the potion master. "It will make you sleep."

"But..."

"You'll need your rest for tomorrow, Lucius is visiting."

-.-.-

Draco awoke the next day to a sight he would have preferred to elude: his father, his VERY ANGRY father, pacing around the bed and staring down at him.

"Do you know what you did?"

No greetings, no frivolities, no coating in politeness: right to the point. Draco gulped. He had rarely seen his father this angry, yet he couldn't even answer the question. Whatever he had done wrong, he didn't thought he wanted to know. The choice was not his.

"You contracted an Heir's debt to the Potter boy!"

Draco was in deep troubles. The last Potter heir had just risked his life for the Malfoy heir. If he survived the incident, which was still doubtful, Harry and his descendants would have some political authority over the whole Malfoy family until such a time as the debt is considered repaid. Since the last Potter's life held a much higher value than any of the numerous Malfoy, it made the debt much more harder to pay. Unless...

"You have to disown me." Draco stated.

The fact that Draco had realized the truth by himself had a calming effect on the man.

"Yes. I've arranged for Narcissa to conceive a proper heir. Our house will be opened to you and I'll make sure you always have enough money but..."

The true meaning was clear: we still love you but there's no way a muggle-lover half-blood brat will control our proud family; Measures have to be taken. Draco should have felt like his world was crumbling, like it was the end. To his surprise, he didn't. He was a little hurt and somewhat afraid for the loss in his social standing, but in a very non-slytherin way, the health of another boy was worrying him more.

In an unusual display of affection, Lucius stroke Draco's silvery hairs once before leaving.

-.-.-

Draco was seating on a chair near Harry, looking at the other boy. He had managed to spent some time near him each day, hoping to catch him awake so they could talk. They needed to talk. The fact that Harry was saved was not enough for Draco. He had to understand the reasons behind the selfless act. Harry's friends weren't very keen with his presence, especially the two youngest Weasleys, and they were monopolising Harry's conscious time. Still, they couldn't be constantly at his side.

Suddenly, Draco felt like he was watched. Harry had awakened.

"I'm sorry." were the first word said, but they came from Harry.

"What?" asked a dumbfounded Draco.

"I'm sorry that I got you disowned by your father and shunned by your housemates."

"Who told you?"

"Ron came in boasting those things." He muttered something else that sounded akin to "I can be so ashamed of him sometimes."

"Potter, don't worry about this. You saved my life!"

Instead of comforting him, those words made Harry whiten.

"Uh... I've talked to Snape and..."

"Professor Snape."

"Yes.. Professor Snape. He said he reviewed the incident for the schoolboard by using a... forgot the word. A basin you put memories in."

"A pensieve."

"That's it! Professor Snape reviewed the incident and he said that if I had acted like a Snake or a Raven instead of a half-witted impulsive Lion..."

Draco smiled

"His words?"

Harry nodded before continuing.

"... it would have gone better. You were far enough to only get a superficial wound and Hagrid would have catch Buckbeak in time."

"What do you mean, Potter?" Draco couldn't contained some aggressiveness. The bedridden boy withdrew in his pillows as much as he could. He answered in a much smaller voice.

"I messed up. I almost died and I destroyed your life! If only..."

An heavy silence fell between the two, until Draco asked.

"Is-it a certainty? Can you verify it?"

"No."

"So let's stop talking about it! In this situation, I think it's best to act the Slitherin way and cunningly use the situation to our advantage."

"How?"

Draco held out his hand toward Harry.

"Hello, I'm Draco Malfoy. You can call me Draco."

Harry laughed, which started a bad coughing fit. Before a fussing Madame Pomfrey expelled Draco, Harry had just the time to seize the offered hand.

"Delighted cough cough ... name's Harry Potter. cough Call me cough Harry."

-.-.-

"Why?" asked Draco the next time the two were alone. Harry frowned. "Why did you threw yourself in front of... of..."

"Buckbeak?"

"That."

The question embarrassed Harry.

"It's what I do."

The respond didn't satisfy Draco. He vowed to get to know Harry so he finally could understand him and what had motivated him that day.

-.-.-

Days, weeks and months passed. Draco took a place in Harry's small circle of friends. He learned to like the other boy, to appreciate his loyalty, his inner-strength, his eagerness to help. Draco and Hermione provided him with the thoughtfulness he lacked. When Harry and Hermione went into the past to save Sirius and Buckbeak, Draco was at their side adding his cunning to their courage, skill and, particularly for Hermione, intellect. They even recaptured Pettigrew, earning Sirius Black his freedom.

During all those adventures, however, Draco never found the answer he sought. Harry often acted with impulsiveness and daring, but never as foolishly as the day he had come between the hippogriff and him. Draco repeated the question again and again, always to the same inane and generic answers. The last day of school, after another rebuttal, Draco's frustration took over. He shoved Harry against the wall, hard.

"Why? WHY?"

Harry green orbs turned toward Draco's gray ones and he... blushed. With a broken voice, more afraid than Draco had ever seen him, even in front of dementors, Harry answered.

"I... I couldn't bear to see you hurt... I love you."

Tears fell from the green eyes while Draco stood, paralysed. Something snapped inside his head as the last pieces of a complex puzzle came into place. Draco finally understood why Harry near-death haunted him, why he had been so worried, why he had not hated him for the lost of standing, why he had proposed to start again.

Still holding the smaller boy trapped against the wall, Draco let his head down, cheek against cheek, and whispered.

"Me too."


End file.
